


Gamzee: be the considerate idiot

by Laylah



Series: Petstuck [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caretaking, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Pets, Romance, Xeno, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're headed on over to see these guys you know, up in one of them big beehive-looking apartment things. A big troll who's good at climbing, like you, can get on up the creaky fire ladder up the back of the building, and if you rap-pap-pap on the window those brothers will up and let you in. Let you back <i>out</i> again, too, that's the real miracle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eventually there will probably be a timeline. Until then, well, y'all are Homestucks -- you can cope with a little nonlinear storytelling, right?
> 
> This one is later than part 2 but earlier than part 1.

You got a couple different kinds of hunting you do, keeping your tiny cohort in good shape. You try to switch up, not get in patterns, because a troll who ain't got no collar and tags is a troll who has to be motherfucking careful how he steps.

And fuck if your traitorous paws ain't got their own ideas. You're up and halfway across town to that lady with the 'nip toys before you motherfucking catch yourself and turn around. You got enough of that stuff to be getting on, and you _know_ if you come around too often she'd be all up and happy to call somebody to pick you up for your own motherfucking good. Can't let her think you're too desperate.

Dumpsters get a pretty good haul out behind some of the restaurants downtown, the ones where they really only got a thin little wire holding the flap shut. It maybe don't feel so _good_ , tearing those motherfuckers loose, but you can do it, and they're all up and full of delicious surprises. You gotta go pretty late at night for that, though, if you don't want to run into some law-abiding citizen telling you to cut it the fuck out, or some pack of drunk male humans looking to show off for each other by fighting something. (That only happened the once. You still _avoid the fuck_ out of that part of town.)

While your head's all pondering how good an idea those dumpsters are, your feet have gone and voted for another option all together. You're headed on over to see these guys you know, up in one of them big beehive-looking apartment things. A big troll who's good at climbing, like you, can get on up the creaky fire ladder up the back of the building, and if you rap-pap-pap on the window those brothers will up and let you in. Let you back _out_ again, too, that's the real miracle.

You haul your bad self on up there and peer on in through the window to see what all they got going on. It is a right motherfucking circus in the Strider brothers' kitchen tonight. Looks like they got a new troll visitor, all crouched up tiny under the kitchen table, bundled up tight with just the sharp end of a little pigsticker pointing out from his blanket. You don't see Solbro nowhere, but both Striders are all up in there, little one keeping Rezi from going after the new kid, big one trying to be non-threatening and all motherfucking reasonable down on the floor.

Maybe this ain't the best time to be imposing on a brother's charity, you figure. They got some motherfucking juggling to do without you even saying a first word.

Little one sees you watching, though, says something about it that you can't hear through the glass. His bro gets up and comes to slide the window up. "Hey, Gamzee," motherfucker says, and you share a fistbump with him to say hi. "We got a no sudden moves and no loud noises rule going on tonight, you chill?"

"I am the chillest of chill motherfuckers," you promise, and he steps back to let you inside.

You plunk down on the cracked plasticky floor and shrug your backpack off, and then you sink into a crouch so you can get a look at the new guy. Little motherfucker hisses at you when you look at him, and he's got the brightest red eyes you ever saw. Something in your bloodpusher up and rolls right the fuck over, not quite like how it went when you saw Tavbro for the first time but just as hard.

"No fights in the house, remember," Strider says from someplace way up there. You wave the words off. Like you could all be fighting with anyone that made you feel like this.

"We're cool, brother," you promise. You get right down on the floor, on your back, looking up at the kid as best you can. You splay your hands out so he can see they're empty, and then you fire up your rattlebox so he can hear your hum. It's a little weird doing that in front of the humans, but by now you don't _think_ they're dumb enough to come rub your belly their own selves.

Your sad little miracle stares at you from under the table for a minute, like he don't know what all to do with you, and then that poor little motherfucker starts to cry. Your bloodpusher ties itself in knots. The top note in your hum pushes to the front of the sound, a little croon of _let me look after you_.

"I can't remember how to do that," he tells you. His voice is all creaky and scratchy, like he motherfucking screamed himself right out.

"Ain't no hurry," you tell him. Your hum gets all into your voice, gives it a case of the wobbles. "You feel it when you feel it, and that kind of righteous noise will up and make itself when it's time."

Sad little brother sniffles and tries to glare at you. "You're an idiot," he says.

You bust out laughing, but you try to keep it quiet on account of he's still holding that little knife he probably got out of a kitchen drawer, and you don't want him to go all panicky with it. "I guess maybe I've been told that a time or two."

He sniffs again and maybe looks just a little bit like he'd smile if he weren't holding onto his guard like that. "Well, whoever told you was right."

"I'm Gamzee," you tell him. "You got a lot of idiot motherfuckers to keep straight, yeah? So I better be up and having a label of my own."

"At least you're a considerate idiot, I guess," he says. "'m Karkat." Then he reaches out and puts one hot little paw on yours and just lets it stay there, even when your thumb gets to wandering over his knuckles.

The two of you sit there for a while like that, and you keep up your hum, while the Striders fuck around in the kitchen and step over you on their way to doing whatever. Place gets to smelling pretty fine after a bit.

Strider crouches down and peeks under the table at the pair of you, cocked head and pointy shades. "We're about to have dinner, FYI," he says. "If you guys want to come out of there, you can help yourselves."

You squeeze Karkat's hand a little. "What d'you think, brother? I could be all murdering whatever that is smelling so good."

"I don't believe you could murder a rabbit," Karkat says, but he starts to wiggle on out of there.

"Shit, no," you agree. "Cute little things ain't done nothing to me, and they're too bitty even to make a good meal."

"Idiot," Karkat says. He don't sound all up and ready to start crying anymore, and that does you good right down to your bones. He leaves the knife and the blanket behind, and that does you even better. When the both of you get standing up, he comes up a little short of your shoulders, and he maybe glares at you and puffs up a little like you done that on purpose, but you don't pay that no mind. There's plates on the counter and one of them basket things full of pasta in the sink, and a pot of red sauce to go on it, and free easy food is a miracle you don't ever want to turn down.

Seems like the whole motherfucking house agrees with you on that one. Even Sollux shows up out of wherever he was hiding to sit next to Strider all knees and elbows and dedicated little munching fangs. Terezi gets all up in Dave's business and eats about half her dinner off his fork, giggling about it every time he tries to tell her to get her own and then turns out not to mean it. Karkat makes sure to keep you between him and everyone else, but they act like they ain't even noticed his bad manners. Like this you can kind of see how having a bigger cohort could be nice, a whole little crew of brothers and sisters to call your own. It'd be you and—

You are one stupid forgetful motherfucker. "Shit, you guys, I hate to fucking eat and run, but I gotta get my sorry ass home," you say.

"What?" Karkat says, grabbing your shirt. "Fuck you, no. You need to stay."

You're kind of a terrible motherfucker right now and you know it: there's no way _not_ to be. "Naw, bro, I got somebody waiting for me," you explain, putting your hand on his. "Little dude ain't got nobody but me, and you got this whole motherfucking crew to watch your back."

Karkat shakes his head urgently. "Don't leave me with the humans," he whispers, so quiet you barely hear him.

You try to think fast, and this is the part where you're really glad you ain't had a whole bag of 'nip to keep you company tonight. "Little sister, think you could come and drop some wicked sage advice on me over here?"

Terezi slides off Dave's lap and comes sauntering over, showing off all her shark teeth. You keep holding Karkat's hand, and he goes tense as she gets closer. "Wicked sage advice is our specialty," she says. "How can we be of assistance this evening?"

"I got to be all heading back to take care of my little bro," you explain, "but I ain't got any kind of good feelings about walking away from this brother right here. You got any good thoughts on how I could be sure he's gonna stay all safe till I can get back here?"

"Are you asking me if I'm taking my duties seriously as leader of this cohort?" Terezi says to you, all sweet like. "I'm offended that you would need to ask the question!" She tilts her head in Karkat's direction and lowers her voice. "I won't let anyone hurt you in my house, you know."

Karkat looks like it hurts him to hear it, the poor motherfucker. "It's the humans' house," he rasps.

Terezi cackles. "That's what they think!" She reaches out to him like her blindness ain't even a thing, cups his face in her hands easy as breathing. His eyes go big and round but he holds still, and she leans in real close. "I mean it," she tells him, soft and sweet as lovers. "If anyone tries to hurt you here, _I will make them pay_."

You can tell just looking, ain't nobody ever said a thing like that to Karkat before. He opens his mouth and then doesn't say a motherfucking thing, just shuts it again and blinks some more.

"There, see?" You smile at Karkat's confused adorable face, and you'd lay a motherfucking hug on him if he'd let you, but it ain't time for that particular miracle just yet. "This fine sister gonna take good care of you till I come back."

"You're coming back?" Karkat says, and the look on his face turns you right inside out. "You promise?"

"Hell yes," you tell him. "Hell fucking yes." You smile. "These motherfuckers can't get rid of me."

"You're a one-troll cockroach infestation," Dave says, getting up from the couch himself, cause he knows a motherfucking cue when he hears one. "Come on, mister miracles, let's go pack a lunch for your imaginary girlfriend."


	2. Chapter 2

It's a whole little parade, coming back to where you left your bag. Dave scoops that motherfucker up off the floor and starts loading it up, all kinds of cans with them rings on the tops so you can pop them open nice and easy. Couple of kinds of human food and a few cans of the mushed-up troll nutrition stuff that tastes boring as shit but makes you feel a little better when you're all up and sickly. "You know," he says as he tucks in a little packet of them black licorice things you like, "offer's still open if you want to bring him by sometime."

You stuff your hands in your pockets. It makes you feel kind of squirmy nervous to think about. "I might, one of these days," you say, because it's hard to give a flat no to a motherfucker what helps you out all the time. But the thing is, if shit went bad, _you_ could break a motherfucking window—or a motherfucker's arm—on the way to _get the hell out_. Tavbro...wouldn't have such an easy time of it.

"No pressure, right? But the option's there." He adds a couple of Tav's favorite peanut butter chocolate cup things. "You guys can park your bony asses in the living room and watch crappy movies together, and we'll order some pizzas."

"With pepperoni and cherries," Terezi says from behind you.

Dave makes a totally fuck-awful face. "Shit, no, Rez, you can't put cherries on pizza. That's like one of the ten commandments."

"Lies," Terezi says happily. "I have heard your ten commandments and they have no pizza in them at all."

Yeah, these motherfuckers will do Karkat a world of miracles. You shrug into your backpack and look over at him, and he's still just all watching you, quiet and intense with his eyes so crazy bright like stoplights. For a second you want to just tuck him under your arm and carry him off with you, but you ain't _that_ big an idiot. You'd shoot this whole balancing act to hell in a second, you went and did something like that.

Instead you just hold out your hand, and he takes it, and squeezes tight. "Come back soon," he says.

You nod. "Less than a week," you promise. Pretty sure you couldn't make yourself stay gone longer than that, the way he looks at you.

"Okay," he says, and lets you go.

You get your night vision back pretty quick as you swing-tumble-pounce your way down to street level again, and that helps you stay the fuck out of trouble as you head home. You're all up in the habit of sticking to the dark when you go out wandering, cause you know you've gotten big enough to make people nervous and the last motherfucking thing you need is to get Troll Welfare called on you. Those motherfuckers would cull you sure for refusing to be somebody's pet. Even on your worst days, you don't want to up and leave Tavros alone like that.

Shit, you want to get your sorry ass home in a hurry. Your head's turning into a spooky place to be.

Home is this empty old shell of a house in a part of town most people plain forgot about, even though a few humans still try to live around there too. (They don't even fucking look after each other, how could you trust them to look after you?) You and Tav moved in there last winter and mostly it's been pretty chill, after one or two scrapes where somebody else wanted to kick you out so they could have that roof for their own selves. (One time you came home to find Tav holding off three guys by his lonesome, snarling and tossing his wicked horns, and fuck if that weren't the scariest night of your life. Didn't stop shaking till _long_ after you got the motherfucking blood off your claws.)

Tonight there ain't no trouble when you get there, no wrong smells when you pry back the loose plywood over that one back window and crawl on in through there. Just you down here in the dark, and from upstairs a set of slow lopsided steps you know just as good as a motherfucking heartbeat. You take them creaky awful stairs three at a go so you can get all up there to him faster.

When you get up top, Tav's over at the far end of the room, right by where you keep your pile, hand on the wall like he's all taking a breather from the hard motherfucking work of moving around. He looks up and sees you there and his face just fucking lights up, with that smile that tells you everything's going to be okay. "Welcome home," he says.

"Best place in the motherfucking world to be," you say. You take a step forward and he shakes his head, just a little, so you pull up right there and just fucking wait while he lets go of the wall and pulls himself up straight and walks across the room to meet you, these shuffling little achy steps that break you right into little pieces inside. You can see it right in his face how hard he's working and it's only his beautiful motherfucking pride that keeps you from going to snatch him up in a hug right there.

You hold your motherfucking horses, though, and Tavbro makes it right on over to you on his own two feet. _Then_ you catch him up in a badass motherfucking hug, because he is the most huggable badass you know. "I'm glad, you're back," he says, warm breath in your ear.

"I am righteous motherfucking glad to be here, bro," you say. Just breathing him in does you a fucking world of comfort, makes you let go of a lot of that blood and culling stuff that fills up your head when you go outside. "Let's go get our cuddle on, babe, and let me share out this sack of miracles I got here."

"That sounds good, to me," Tav says, and lets you keep an arm right around him as you head over to the pile. You think he might have been working his bad leg the whole time you were gone, and it hits you all over again just how _tough_ this sweet little motherfucker is.

You make it over there and help him down easy, then shrug out of your bag and start hunting through the pile. Most of the shit you guys own is up in here someplace, where you can keep an eye on it, and that includes your stash. "Fuck yeah, there we go," you say when you find your nip bag—there's a little more in there than you thought you had.

Tav's opening up your backpack to go through there while you measure out a pinch of nip in your hand. He finds the licorice and passes that to you, then pulls out the peanut butter cups and grins all doofy and adorable. "Did you, go see the Striders, again?" he asks.

"Yeah, it was a right wicked party over there," you say. "They got a new guy, sweetest little scaredy kitten you ever saw." You watch Tav setting his candy aside all careful-like. You know he's going to go through it slow as he can.

Maybe it's the nip all tingling under your tongue but you add, "Motherfuckers still want to meet you," like that's a thing that could up and happen.

"Hmm," Tav says, digging a spoon out of the pile and popping open one of the cans. "Sometimes, I think, they might be not so bad." He waves the spoon at his legs. "I still get tired, too easily, so, maybe not yet."

"Can't be too motherfucking careful," you agree. You sit there quiet for a minute, letting the nip round off your twitchy edges and watching Tav put his fucking dinner away like a champ. You ain't said a word to those guys about Tav's legs. They ain't the kind of motherfuckers as would try to cull him and call it a fucking _quality of life_ issue, but you're all sorts of worried they'd think they could take better care of him than you can. "You ain't ever got to go see them, right."

Tav nods, smiling at you like he can see right into your head and knows how much you're worrying and he's grateful for it. "I'm not in a hurry, anyway," he says. "This is just fine, for now." He polishes off the last of his food and sets the can on down, licking his chops all satisfied. You done good tonight, you're pretty motherfucking sure.

You're _really_ motherfucking sure when the next thing Tav does is roll over to drape an arm over you and pull you down into kissing range. Hell fucking yes, getting your makeout on is about the best thing you could possibly be doing right now. All your ugly parts get to melting down as you tangle up in each other, arms and legs all wrapped up and his mouth moving slow against yours. Your hum kicks up and his does, too, counterpoint to yours, beautiful fucking music when you're both making that noise together.

You ain't altogether sure who starts the next bit, whether he gets his hands up under your shirt first or you do his. It ain't no motherfucking race anyhow, the bit that fucking matters is claws on skin all gentle-like, and the warm sweet feeling you get all running through your veins when Tav moves with you.

Well, the way your bulge wakes up and gets to pulsing, that's pretty good, too. You skin one hand down, knuckles brushing the front of his jeans, and Tav's hum rolls into high gear. "Yes, please," he says, soft right up against your mouth.

"Anything you want, babe," you tell him, and you mean it all through.

He smiles. "But especially, this thing that, you also want," he says.

Every bit of you fucking sings with how right this is, and you're laughing as you nod. "Can't fucking argue with that," you say. "I told you lately that you're a clever little motherfucker?"

"You could always," he pushes your shirt up, "tell me again," you're tugging his to match, "if you wanted."

He's right, you totally fucking could. "Bro, you're the moon and the stars," you tell him as your hands get all to work on his button fly. "You're my most favorite miracle of all, you know that?" He kisses your jaw, bites just a little, humming right against your throat. "Went and put the colors in the fucking rainbow, ain't no motherfucker could tell me different." You slide your thumb over his sheath and the tip of his bulge comes curling out to say hello.

"Oh," Tav says, pushing on into your hand, tugging to get your pants down so he can be all returning the motherfucking favor. Your bulge is plenty motherfucking happy to see him, that's for sure, sliding right out to get friendly with his fingers. "You are, my favorite miracle, also," he tells you, all softly, barely enough voice to come out over the hum. "Being with you is, the best thing."

Truth be told, ain't either of you got a whole lot of other nice things to compare, but that kind of ugly thinking don't belong up in this cuddle pile, so you shoo it right out the door again. Right now is for kissing Tav's sweet mouth and letting his music get all up in your heart, for wiggling closer until his bulge and yours can be tangle buddies and that feels good enough to fill your head right up, don't leave any room for troubles at all. You let your eyes fall shut and just love what you got right here, right now, Tav's arms warm around you and Tav's bulge coiling all in ripples around yours, slick and strong, and the sweet colors blooming all across your shut-up eyelids. You got a croon you can't even help, and you feel like you could just drift right away, not sure where your edges are at all—there's a knot of bright heat right down at the base of your core and the rest of you is a puddle spreading out from there.

And then Tav's hand is down there again, and you realize he's easing the tip of your bulge away from his nook. "Sorry," he says with that motherfucking adorable little smile.

"Naw, it ain't nothing for you to be all sorry about," you say, trying to pull together enough attention you can do this right. "I'm the one who's up and spacing the fuck out and forgetting where I'm all going." Bodies, man, they know what the fuck they want to do, and sometimes if one of you don't pay no attention (let's be straight, you know that's you most times), then a bulge might do a little wandering looking for something to curl up inside. But that ain't a good risk for you to be taking, and what the hell would you do with grubs anyway?

So you pull it together enough to remember where you're up and pointing that thing, cause it ain't like any kind of hardship at all to be wrapped up in Tav's bulge and squeezing. Feels fucking beautiful just like that, drawing your nerves right in, winding you tight enough you feel like, fuck—

"Bucket?" Tav says, going breathless, and you nod. That was his idea, up and keeps the both of you from spilling a colorful mess all over your own selves or your pile: all you gotta do is get your aim on, right there at the end, and you get your own personal peanut butter and jelly all nice and contained somewhere it won't do you no fucking hassle later on, and here you are fucking marveling at that miracle of cleverness right up until you get dragged back into the miracle of right this minute as Tav bucks and shivers and starts filling the pail, and you up and follow his example, god _damn_.

He's even got it together enough to push the pail out the way before you both up and collapse back into the pile, still kind of tangly and unwinding slow. You plant a kiss on his sweet motherfucking mouth because there ain't no way you could help yourself, and the tone of his hum changes from hungry to just plain chill with the world, just like what your own rattlebox got going on. You do that for a little bit, letting your tongues tangle while your bulges figure out how to get unwound, and maybe your fingertips go walking to just trace out all the shapes of his face, cause you don't ever get tired of being amazed at him all over again.

You take a little stock once all your parts done put themselves away, and yeah, all the noise in your head up and smoothed itself right out while you been getting your cuddle on. Your skin sits all nice and easy on your bones, the miracle of being _okay_ for another while. You smile at Tav, let him see how good you feel. "So how you doing, bro? You got a little juice left in those gams?"

"I think, I have enough juice, for a little more walking around," he says, smiling right back with those sweet fangs. "Did you have, something in mind?"

"Let's head on up to the roof," you say. "Pretty nice tonight, think we could even see a few stars."

"That sounds, good to me," Tav says, and you take his hand to help him up to his feet.

Yeah. You'll go on up and watch some fucking stars together, let the cool breeze whistle through your horns, and tell Tav another thing or two about Karkat, if the words will go together any kind of sensible. You got it together. You got your Tavbro, you got a place of your own, and you got a plan.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gamzee: be the considerate idiot [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/526828) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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